


Chemistry Kinda Sucks

by TalkLess



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Also jerm seems to be one of those people thqts like, Alternate Universe - Tutoring, I mean it takes so long for them to date, It was supposed to be for math but my hc is that jerm is bad at science, Kinda but not really, M/M, Slow Burn-ish, Wow Christine is becoming a bigger part of this than anticipated, rlly good at math, thats okay though Christine is awesome, they don't know each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-14 21:54:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11217021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalkLess/pseuds/TalkLess
Summary: Jeremy Heere was failing science. He didn't like failing classes, but he whatever he did just never seemed to be enough. He tried studying, he tried asking for extra credit assignments, but his grade barely seemed to go up. Eventually he decided it was a lost cause, and he should give up. It's not like anyone but him cared about his grades, anyways. He was practically friendless (read: totally friendless), his teachers couldn't give less of a shit about their students, and his dad couldn't find it in himself to care about pants, much less his son.So yeah, he was doing pretty well at ignoring it, especially since his other grades were above average, until his teacher decided to actually give a shit.





	1. Jeremy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [canweorderpizza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/canweorderpizza/gifts).



> This is all leading up to one very bad joke. Sorry.

Jeremy Heere was failing chemistry. He didn't like failing classes, but he whatever he did just never seemed to be enough. He tried studying, he tried asking for extra credit assignments, but his grade barely seemed to go up. Eventually he decided it was a lost cause, and he should give up. It's not like anyone but him cared about his grades, anyways. He was practically friendless (read: totally friendless), his teachers couldn't give less of a shit about their students, and his dad couldn't find it in himself to care about pants, much less his son.

So yeah, he was doing pretty well at ignoring it, especially since his other grades were above average, until his teacher decided to actually give a shit.

The bell had just rung, and everyone sighed in relief, including Jeremy. Why couldn't his last class at least be something he liked? Chemistry was going to be the bane of his existence, probably, and even though he like to pretend (to himself, because he has no one else to pretend to.) that his grade doesn't bother him, it really does. Like, a lot. An uncomfortable amount of bother. Especially over a grade, god. He bets Jake Dillinger doesn't care about his fucking chemistry grade. Rich Goranski can't be fucked to show up half the time, and Brooke Lohst, Chloe Valentine, and Jenna Rolan text incessantly during it. Sometimes he wonders why they don't just talk to each other, the teacher wouldn't notice, and they're probably only texting each other anyways. Despite all that, he bets their chemistry grades are still better than his.

Then his mind wanders to somewhere he really didn't want it to go.

Christine Canigula.

Christine probably doesn't care about her chemistry grade either, because she probably doesn't have to. She probably gets straight A's without even trying! Why did she have to be so perfect? It was unfair. Maybe she could like, tutor him or something? No. She'd think he's a loser, like he is, but he doesn't want her to know that!

Anyways, he should probably finisj packing up his stuff and leave soon, he doesn't want to be locked in the school again. He hastily shoved his binder and notebooks in his backpack, and was heading for the door when there wss a tap on his shoulder.

"Can you stay back a little, honey?" He bristled a little at the nickname. He turned to see the sweet, old, far too often taken advantage of lady who was their science teacher. He didn't really blame her for his grade, it was his own fault for being so stupid, after all. He nodded and followed her back to her desk, where another kid was waiting. Probably a few inches taller than him, brightly colored chunky headphones, thick glasses, and a hoodie with an assortment of loud, brightly colored patches on it. One of them was a rainbow flag, and one of them read "aliens are real". Some of them had to do with video games, and some of them were from things he didn't recognize. They were haphazardly sewn on all over the hoodie, most of them lopsided. He had never seen this kid before.

Well, he probably has, but he doesn't remember him. Which is kind of shocking, seeing as this kid had probably the most interesting fasion statement in the entire grade. Which, wouldn't be saying much, but some of Rich Goranski's tank tops can be... Rather interesting. Jeremy remembers one particular instance where he wore a tanktop with a 'missing' poster for Jesus Christ on it. He didn't even think Rich was religious. He tried not to think about it too much.

But, whatever. Rich Goranski was weird, what's new? Back to the kid at hand. He was smiling was too much for Jeremy's taste. God, was he like, one of those really weirdly positive people? Tv Show Hosts, His aunt used to call them. They weren't really TV show hosts, but they acted like them. Always trying to be optimistic and never seeming to frown. Jeremy smiled nervously in return, and Ms. Rosier began explaining.

"So, um, Jeremy? You've been having troubles with science, correct?"

"Uh, Yes?" He was confused as to why she was addressing it now, he'd been having trouble with science for two years already!

"Well, Michael here has offered to tutor you a bit, is that okay?"

"U-uh, sure?" She smiled, and the boy's-Michael's- smile got even bigger, if that was even possible.

"Cool, I'm gonna tutor the fuck outta you!" The chemistry teacher gave him a disapproving look.

"Language, Michael." He had the decency to look sheepish.

"Sorry, Ms. Rosier." Jeremy decided to speak up for the first time since confirming that he sucked at science.

"So, uh, do you wanna exchange numbers, or pick a time to meet right now, or?" He asked, trying to get out of there as soon as possible.

"Oh! Uh, here!" Michael reached into his pockets and pulled out a phone. He unlocked it an handed it to Jeremy. Jeremy put his number in and sent a text to himself. He handed it back to him, but Michael didn't put it back in his pocket.

Whem Jeremy got home there was a text waiting for him, from Michael asking him if he was free Thursday. He's always free, every day of the week. Except when he's doing homework, but that's what Michael is here to help him do, right? (Not that he needed any help, he was doing just fine ignoring his grade on his own, thanks.) He responded only with a yes.

Then came the question. _The_ question. "Your house, or mine?"

Jeremy was instantly confronted with thousands of memories of his dad, passed out on the couch at 5pm, pants nowhere to be seen. He responded quickly, and probably a little rudely, but Michael didn't seem to mind.

The following Thursday afternoon, Jeremy was stood in front of (hopefully) Michael's house, more anxiety ridden than usual. It wasn't that he now cared about Michael more than his other classmates, but they were going to see each other frequently, (And Michael was the closest thing he had to a friend since freshman year, when he was sort-of-friends with Rich Goranski, of all people! But that was besides the point.) so he definitely cared what Michael _thought_ of him.

He knocked on the door, probably a little too loudly, and it was answered quickly by a kind-but-stern looking woman, who he assumed to be Michael's mom. She smiled at him kindly, and didn't say a word while he stumbled over words and interactions. When it was confirmed that Michael did, in fact, live there, he entered the actual house. The outside may not have looked like much, but the inside was immensely colourful. The walls were covered in, probably expensive, paintings and on every table there was a uniquely covered vase filled with some sort of unrecognizable flower.

Yeah, he wasn't gonna let Michael into his house. Ever. 

Michael's Mom lead him down the stairs into the basement. She told him that Michael was in the first room to the left, and went back upstairs. He knocked on the door, and Michael opened it with headphones on and unbrushed hair. He yelped. "Oh! Uh, Jeremy! Hi! How are you?" He took his headphones off. Jeremy didn't really know what to say.

"Uh, I-I'm fine, um, how about you?" He asked, and cringed at the way the words came out of his mouth. 

"I'm, I'm good. We should probably study or, uh, something I guess." He guestured in a way that told Jeremy to enter. Jeremy obliged and they both sat down on a shockingly red couch.

"So, um, wh-what should we, uh, study?" Clearly this was the right direction to drive the conversation, because Michael no longer looked unsure.

"Well, first let's start with the basics," Michael snorted a little. "Let's review Chemical and physical changes."

"Ok?"

"Maybe it would be good to see how much you know? Like, what are the differences between chemical and physical changes?"

"Oh, uh, well chemical changes are when the chemical makeup changes, right? And physical change's are when it says the same, but it look different. That's all I know, really."

"You're not wrong, but I can see why you're having trouble. It's not really that you're wrong as it is you're missing information."

"Oh, uh, cool?" Jeremy and Michael spent about an hour reviewing the definition and properties of chemical and physical change, they even made some cue cards. It definitely wasn't the most productive thing in the world, it was only one subject from their entire curriculum, but it was a start. Jeremy kind of liked it. Michael was actually really funny, and casual banter was kept up throughout the entire time. It was kinda like having a real friend, it was... nice. 

But him and Michael weren't actual friends. Michael was only putting up with him because a teacher told him to. But it couldn't hurt to just pretend, right? 

Yes, yes it could, and Jeremy knew that so well, but that wasn't going to stop him from doing it anyways. He was just going to enjoy this, for now.

Despite Michael being great company, a wonderful conversationalist, and a good tutor, studying was still boring as fuck. He tried to push through and not let it show, but Michael eventually noticed him getting more and more frustrated.

"Hey," Michael said tentatively, slowly putting the cards down. "We can like, take a break or something, if you want?" Jeremy tried his best to be agreeable.

"Ok, uh, sure?" Michael smiled, and Jeremy felt his face heat up. 

"D'ya wanna play Apocalypse of the Damned?" 

"Oh, uh, what's that?"

"Only the best video game in the world! Here, let me explain..."

After twenty minutes of enthusiastic explanation, explaining the (largely unimportant) storyline and subplots as well as the controls, Jeremy was fairly sure he was an expert on the game already. Michael finally handed him a controller and turned the tv on. He jumped back onto a beanbag, and gestured for Jeremy to sit on the matching one. 

They actually made a pretty good team, although Jeremy's reflexes in real life were lacking, he was pretty good at the game, and Michael was a certified expert. They got past the first three levels in their new save file in succession before having difficulty on the fourth. They played the game with ease, Michael occasionally making a joke or telling Jeremy an interesting fact about the production of the game.

So yeah, not friends. But it kinda felt like it. Jeremy decided it wouldn't hurt to pretend a while more.


	2. Michael

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael Mell is gay and wants friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sick as fuck ols help  
> Also I've never been to a goddamned seven eleven Fuck you

Michael Mell is really gay. He knew it in seventh grade when he started fantasizing over his 25 year old math teacher, and he knew it now when he got a big dumb crush on the kid he was supposed to be tutoring. That wasn't his fault though, it was fucking Jeremy's fault with his big stupid blue eyes and his soft stupid pink lips and his stupidly cute freckles and the stupid way he fiddles with his hands and it was Totally Jeremy's fault for being way too pretty. 

He was _supposed_ to be tutoring Jeremy right now, and thinking about chemical bonding and  _not_ thinking about Jeremy's stupid delicate hands or his stupidly long legs or his dumb soft looking hair, but he can't really help it when Jeremy is sitting _right there_. Jeremy seemed to notice him spacing out because he spoke up right then.

"Hey, are you okay? You've been acting a little strange." Jeremy asking, concern lacing his voice.

"What? No, yeah. I'm fine. Just haven't been sleeping very well."

"Oh. Well, sleep is kinda important, maybe I should go. I can come back some other time, and I can always study at home." Jeremy suggested. Fuck him for being so caring and nice. 

"Sure. Yeah. I'll text you some more things to study, or whatever." 

"Bye. And make sure to actually get some sleep." Jeremy pat him on the shoulder before leaving. 

Michael needed to get this under control.

The next time he saw Jeremy, it was so bad. He still had chronic stomach butterflies, but he managed to devote himself to explaining chemical bonding rather than Jeremy's long limbs and smooth pale skin. And when Jeremy inevitably got frustrated and Michael had to suggest they play Apocalypse of the Damned again, he did a pretty alright job of focusing on murderering zombies and not how cute Jeremy is when murderering zombies.

It was still kinda weird how Jeremy would never let him in his house. Every time he would ask whose house they should study at, Jeremy would instantly reply with Michael's. This, of course, naturally led to some speculation, and more than a few conspiracy theories. Which Jeremy knew nothing about, obviously. He couldn't very well go up to Jeremy and ask, "Hey, so I noticed we never hang out at your house, and like any other normal, sane, functioning member of society would in that situation, I've been coming up with conspiracy theories. So tell me Jeremy, are you an alien, are you homeless, or are your parents criminals/serial killers?"

So yeah, he didn't tell Jeremy about his, probably absurd, almost definitely wrong, theories. But that didn't stop him from wondering. Or conspiring. Honestly, if you think about it, some of his theories make a lot of sense. So he tries not to think about it. Once though, he did imply he wanted to study at Jeremy's house, but Jeremy evidently didn't get the hint, because the conversation went a little something like this;

"Hey, Jeremy? Why do we only study at my house?"

"To play video games, duh." Jeremy laughed. "And because your mom is cool."

"You're only saying that because she makes you food."

"That is a contributing factor, yes." He paused. "But if you really wanted to study somewhere else, we could do it at the library or something."

And that's the story of how Michael ended doing science in the middle of a Seven-Eleven. Well, not the whole story. The Seven-Eleven thing was his idea, because if he had to go out of the comfort of his own home, he was at least going to go somewhere he liked. Which, okay, Seven-Eleven as a hang out spot may have been a _little_ weird, but they had candy and slushies, and that was really all Michael needed in life. 

"Remind me again why we chose to study at Seven-Eleven?" Jeremy groaned, flopping face first onto an opened textbook. 

"So I can drink slushies while you struggle."

"Fuck you." Jeremy mumbled, voice muffled by the textbook.

"I appreciate the offer, but I'm good." _Liar._

"I hate life." Jeremy grumbled, adorably.

"Me too buddy." Michael said and played with Jeremy's hair a bit, and he really shouldn't because it was not helping his tiny crush, but his hair was all splayed out on the textbook and it was basically an invitation to touch it.

"I'm gonna drop out of school."

"Hey, no you're not. I'll buy you a slushie." Jeremy perked up a little at that, and no, it was definitely not cute.

"As long as it's only one flavour." Jeremy complied, pointing at Michael's "Rainbow Slushie" that was really just a disgusting shade of brown after the flavours mixed together.

"Hey! This is a masterpiece. Learn to appreciate art, you uncultured swine." Michael joked, standing up. He dragged Jeremy over to the slushie machines, despite his protests. "So, what _singular_ flavour do you want?"

"Grape." Jeremy said desicively. Michael groaned.

"Ugh, you're so boringgg... Let me make you a slushie?" Michael asked hopefully.

"No." Jeremy rolled his eyes affectionately. Maybe. 

"You're no fun." Michael stuck his tongue out, but poured Jeremy a grape slushie anyways. He brought it up to the counter and paid for it, while the cashier shamelessly flirted with him. Sorry lady, I'm really gay for the dude I'm buying a slushie for.

Michael learned that Jeremy holds his drinks with both hands and closes his eyes while drinking. ~~That was pretty cute~~.

After that, Jeremy and Michael studied for another half hour before Michael had to go home.

They started doing that a lot more often. Not specifically the slushie thing, but the whole "going-somewhere-else-to-study" thing. They still studied at Michael's house, of course, Jeremy was way too attached to Michael's mom to give that up, and playing video games after studying was kinda their thing, but they would also sometimes study at 7-11, or and ice cream shop, and once they studied together on a bench in the park. Still never Jeremy's house though. It was almost like hanging out, or even dating, if you could ignore the fact they were lugging around three textbooks and a notebook. 

So yeah, Michael's feelings never really went away. Actually, they probably multiplied while he watched Jeremy drip ice cream on his chin or get pen on his face. And maybe those things should've put Michael off, especially the ice cream one, but Michael found it endearing. So what if Michael's feelings never went away? He was happy, and goddamn if he let his emotions get in the way of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos will cure my illness  
> Sorry this was so short!! There wasn't a specific plot to this chapter, it was more of a filler, so I really had no clue what to write. I hope you enjoyed what I did write though!


	3. Jeremy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christine Canigula doesn't have notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow i havent updated if forever sorry dudes

Michael was not Jeremy's friend. Michael probably didn't want anything to do with him, because he was annoying and a loser and bad at science. 

Or, thats what Jeremy told himself. But sometimes it felt like Michael wanted to be around him, or even, god forbid, _friends_. Like when Michael made a stupid science pun, or played video games with him. Or even when he smiled at him in the halls, or when they walked to classes together. But every time Jeremy had that hope, that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't be a loner forever, it was quickly squandered. Because Michael was funny and chill and nice, whereas Jeremy was awkward and anxious and sweaty.

He bets _Michael_ could talk to Christine, if he wanted to. But Jeremy, as unbelieveably dense as he is, isn't blind, and can clearly see the giant pride flag above Michael's bed, and the large pride patch on Michael's left arm. So Michael doesn't talk to Christine because he doesn't care to, and Jeremy doesn't talk to Christine because he isn't good enough.

He glanced at Christine, oblivious to his thoughts, sitting at the table right next to him, and then he looked at the clock. Five minutes left, and he had daydreamed through most of it. Maybe this was why he was failing chemistry. Probably.

Once class had ended, he stood up and tried to stuff his large binder into his small backpack, like he did every class. But as he was trying (and failing) to get the very top in (which would never happen, and he knew that), he was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. 

He jumped back, nearly tripping over his chair. "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you!" Came a soft and familiar voice. He looked up at the person who had tapped him, and he was met with the concerned brown eyes of Christine Canigula.

"No! No, its-uh- i-it's fine I-I get startled e-easily." His face was burning red from nervousness and embarassment.

"Oh, ok. Well, I'm Christine."

"Oh-uh-I," _Come on Jeremy, pretend you haven't been lowkey stalking this girl since middle school._ "I-I'm Jeremy." _Not as bad as it could've been, but still terrible._

"Oh, hi Jeremy!" She said, blatantly ignoring Jeremy's stuttering and awkwardness, which Jeremy thanked the gods for. "So, I was absent last class," _I noticed. I was worridd you were sick._ "And i was wondering if you had any notes? My lab partner is, um, well I don't want to be rude but-" He cut her off.

"I, uh, g-get it." He said with an uncertain smile. She breathed a sigh of relief. 

"Yeah, and I don't really know anyone else here, and you seemed approachable so, um..." She trailed off, obviously looking for his answer about the notes.

"Sorry, I, uh, don't really take notes. M-my fri-uh, Michael, he, uh, has copies of, of the lesson plans at his h-house. H-he, he tutors me s-so, uh, yeah." _Now she thinks you're stupid for needing tutoring and she'll never even want to talk to you again, much less date you, or even be your friend._

"Oh, well, if it would be too much trouble, could I maybe, um, tag along?" 

"Oh! Uh, sure! That'd, uh, that'd be fine, or um," This time she cut him off.

"Great! Thanks. Can I maybe put my number in your phone or something?"

"Uh, s-sure, here." He handed her his phone. When she handed it back he found that she had created a new contact for herself, with an abundance of smiley faces and exclaimation points.

"So, uh, just ask Michael next time and maybe I can go with you?"

"S-sounds, uh, sounds great." Jeremy gave her a shaky smile, and she returned it was albeit hesitant enthusiasm. Michael came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. This time he _actually_ tripped over his chair. He yelped as he tumbled to the floor.

"Shit, sorry Jeremy, didn't mean to scare you." Michael offered him a hand which he gladly took. 

"No, it's uh, cool." Michael pulled him to his feet.

"So, where d'ya wanna study tomorrow?" _Come on, ask him now._

"I-uh, actually, I was, I was wondering if we could, uh, just do it at your house?"

"Of course, is there a particular reason?"

"Well, see, uh, Ch-Christine she was, uh, wondering if she could study with us? She, she missed last class, so."

"Oh yeah, sure dude!" Michael smiled, but there was a hint of another emotion tugging at the corners of his lips. Jeremy tried not to dwell on it. But he couldn't help thinking, what if Michael hated Christine? What if he wasn't fine with it?

The following Thursday, Jeremy found himself in Michael Mell's basement with Christine Canigula. Huh. Weird.

He probably should've been freaking out more, but he was kind of exhausted. He had stayed up the previous night worried about if Christine and Michael would get along, and he was too tired to worry anymore.

Michael was reviewing last class with Chritine while Jeremy was doing his own studying. Jeremy didn't really need a tutor, so much as someone to study with. He had discovered he really wasn't _that_ bad at chemistry, but he hated it with a burning passion, which lead to him avoiding it as much as possible. Michael was mostly there to help make cue cards, tell him hat he should study next, and when he inevitably tried to give up at least five times, force him to continue. 

Their conversation, at some point, had evidently stopped being about the mole concept because they were now asking him what he thought, and he doubted they were asking for his opinion on mole conversions. 

"I-I'm sorry, what?" He said, looking up from his textbook that he hadn't really been paying attention to. Michael, if he hadn't been so preoccupied with Christine, would've usually noticed and scolded him for it, but he got away with it this time.

"We asked you if you wanted to go for icecream." Christine explained.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure Christine gets the gist of this, and I know you've been doing so well studying on your own." Michael says with a slight eyebrow raise. Okay, so maybe he had noticed.

Five minutes later they were standing in a small ice cream shop, arguing over who was going to pay. Suddenly, the guy behind the counter spoke up. "Why don't you all pay for your own ice cream?" Jeremy was going to say he had a point, when Michael and Christine shouted together, almost as if it had been rehearsed.

"No! Absolutely not!" Jeremy leaned over the counter and ordered their ice cream. They had already decided on what they were getting, so he had no anxiety over picking the wrong one. He headed the guy his money, and while he was scooping the icecream, Jeremy dealt with his fr- Michael and Christine. 

"Guys, I already paid for it." Jeremy announced and Michael and Christine turned to him with horrified looks on their faces. Oh god, what if they hated him forever? He should have never even come with them. He started to look visibly uncomfortable, tugging ag his shirt so hard he nearly ripped it. Christine seemed to notice his anxiety because she smiled.

"Thanks Jeremy. That was very nice of you, wasn't it, _Michael_?" She said Michael's name pointedly.

"Oh, oh, uh, yeah. Thanks bud. Appreciate it." Jeremy relaxed. They didn't hate him. The guy behind the counter, who for some reason, didn't have a name tag cleared his throat.

"Yeah, yeah, very nice. Now are you gonna get your ice cream or not?" He was waiting with their ice cream cones. They each took their cone from his hands, Michael and Christine's were held in one of his hands, and Jeremy's wss held in the other. They sat down at one of the outside booths and talked. The subjects ranged from hydrangeas to latin, but never once did they touch chemistry, and for rhat Jeremy was grateful.

Thank God for Christine Canigula.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmu @radical.brooke_ on Instagram and @gay-to-heaven in tjmblr  
> Comment pls!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and hmu on tumblr @gay-to-heaven  
> I had to do like, an unfair amount of research on grade eleven chemistry. Im not even in grade eleven! Im probably gonna take like, environmental science or some shit anyways. That being said, all research done was, regrettably, not on the chemistry curriculum of new jersey. It was on the gr 11 chemistry curriculum of fucking ontario.


End file.
